


To Wake Up and Die Again

by Destiny_in_the_Stars



Category: Brave New World - Aldous Huxley, Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, Much Ado About Nothing - Shakespeare, Othello - Shakespeare, Tess of the d'Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, M/M, Murder Mystery, Psychological Horror, Psychological Trauma, Violence, mansion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-13 00:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny_in_the_Stars/pseuds/Destiny_in_the_Stars
Summary: A group of drastically different individuals are in for the shock of a lifetime when they end up as the guests to a strange mansion until they slowly start to disappearWhat is going on? Tick, tock... the clock is striking and anyone could be next





	1. The Invite

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to do this after a video project where the characters of different books would meet. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this! Good luck!

The high school down in Los Angeles was certainly a odd one with students who seemed to be mainly from other countries, particularly England and France. It didn't seem to be anything special, not in the slightest, until you stepped inside and met the fellow characters of this here tale. 

Bernard Marx wasn't exactly handsome with dark-colored hair that always appeared scruffy and unkempt. His eyes were a quite a dull gray, and he was always looking miserable. The adolescent was merely a junior, just barely starting the year, as only a few months had passed. 

His only friends were Lenina Crowne, a young, beautiful girl with large blue eyes and blonde hair that reached her shoulders. She usually carried around a bag with some kind of substance that looked like sugar or something, adding it into her drink.

Bernard simply didn't ask. 

His other companion of sorts was Helmhotz Watson, preferably called Watson or Watts, a slightly older male with copper hair and brownish eyes. Watson had a bunch of science classes, most of which Bernard hardly understood let alone care about. 

They were an odd trio, considering Bernard was technically of higher social class, all things considered, while Lenina stood just slightly below him and Watson wasn't exactly popular. 

And then along came a transfer student. Whoever he was, Bernard didn’t really speak with him until everything changed. 

* * *

 

Benedick, in simple terms, was a prick. He was from England with a thick rolling accent, which had a portion of the girls drooling over him...  all but Beatrice.  

Beatrice was rather independent for a female of only sixteen years old, a couple months before Benedick. 

She hardly put up with him and it was extremely normal for Benedick to be arguing back with her, driving her on edge with his constant remarks. 

Beatrice didn’t attempt to fight him, mainly because of her cousin, Hero, who didn’t see that it was worth to get into trouble with the school. 

“That boy is such a- he acts with such disgrace!” Beatrice exclaimed to Hero, her accent thickening with every word.

 Hero giggled slightly. Trust her cousin to be insulting Benedick like that, even after all this time. 

“Oh, Beatrice! He’s not so-“

”I won’t hear it!” Beatrice scoffed. 

The only common ground shared was through Don Pedro, a close mutual friend between them who was both part of the popular table and one of the few decent ones, and Claudio, the boyfriend of Hero. 

And to think... that a series of events would soon bring them closer together.

* * *

Tess Durbeyfield was quite a loner for someone her age. 

Her only problem was Alec, that one male who was constantly following her around, almost as if he were stalking. 

It made her dreadfully uncomfortable and considering she had once been under the notion they might’ve been related didn’t help any matters. 

Her one friend, Angel, wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with her, due to a failed and misled piece of information. 

Tess had little idea what was soon coming. 

* * *

Nick Carroway wasn’t exactly a loner though he did have his cousin, Daisy. 

His only distraction was that of the infamous Gatsby. They’d never crossed paths, not once, but Gatsby’s name had been passed from student to student so much that everybody likely felt they knew him. 

One day, perhaps, they would meet. 

He just didn’t know how soon.

Nick, however, was acquainted to one Othello Moor, who didn’t really stand as being popular though the senior high school student did participate in sports. 

Othello had his own group of friends, including his loyal girlfriend, Desdemona, along with close friend, Iago, who might share some jealousies with the star of the football team. 

Iago, on the other hand, had befriended Roderigo, or rather Roderick, depending on who one talked to, and his on-off girlfriend. 

Their only mutual ally was Michael Cassio who was dating Bianca, one of the school’s more open females. 

All in all, they all shared their secrets. 

To think how soon their lives would be altered.

* * *

 

Bernard was the first to receive the letter.

He went home after an exhausting day of classes and, upon much insisting from his foster father, went out to get the mail. 

The envelope had been a bright golden color with a neat black embroidery running across the top. 

_Dear Bernard Marx,_

_You have been cordially invited to attend a dinner at 156 Briarwood Lane. This Saturday, at precisely 6:35 pm, you and several of others will be dropped off, via a limousine, at the house where you will receive yet another message._

_Do not disappoint me._

Confusion filled Bernard’s thoughts and he took the letter, went inside, and decided it was worth a shot to go. 

The odder thing was it hadn’t been signed. 


	2. Blackout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bernard and the others are about to arrive at the mansion but not everything is as it seems

It wasn't often that Bernard received mail, and even lesser chances of being invited to a dinner.

He didn't tell Lenina or even Watson because the last thing he needed was a multitude of questions. Bernard wasn't exactly the most intelligent, but he passed his classes with decent grades. 

His foster father barely had love for him, spending half the time yelling than actually doing something. 

Watson sometimes thought Bernard was being ridiculous when his friend of sorts had a habit of constantly complaining about physical appearances or something equally as stupid.

He didn't know what went on at home. 

Two days passed and Bernard still kept silent, but he noticed Lenina acting strange. 

She was a bit more aggressive and she kept checking for something in her bag, though whatever it was she never took out, not once. Lenina had always been more of a spirited girl, liked to have her close group of friends, flirting with just about every boy she knew. 

Curiosity took over Bernard one day, just one day before he would be picked up by the limousine which would take him to the mansion for that mystery dinner. Every instinct should've screamed how horrible it was was, going to some likely remote area without having any sort of expected idea of what would be there, but he was curious and now even more determined to know what Lenina was hiding. 

Lenina had one close friend and that was a girl named Bianca, young, pretty. 

Bianca was the girlfriend of basketball player, Michael Cassio, but Bernard didn’t really speak with him. 

Finally catching sight of Bianca in the hallway, Bernard walked up to her and awkwardly flashed a smile. 

“Bianca... right?” Bernard asked suddenly. 

“Uh, yeah. You’re Bernard... Lenina’s friend, yes?” Bianca answered. 

They didn’t interact much, not having much of a point when they weren’t exactly friends. 

“Yeah, I- I just had a question,” Bernard began. He faltered, because he had no idea how to phrase what he wanted to say next. “Look, your friend’s with Lenina, so... have you noticed her acting strange?”

Bianca eyed him warily. “Why?”

”I just wanted to know. She’s my- we’re friends,” Bernard told her, almost evasively. He had no feelings in that sort of way for Lenina, but they were still close. 

“Alright, well... she says she got something and it’s making her uneasy.”

”What did she get?”

”A letter and she only told me because I had one too.”

No... oh, no, no, no. Bernard was close to hyperventilating, his breathing coming out ragged and heavy. This wasn’t what he wanted. Why did Lenina have a letter?

”Bernard? Bernard! Are you alright?” 

Snapping out of his half-panicked daze, Bernard’s head made a sharp crack-like sound as he turned to look directly at Bianca. 

“I have one too!” He blurted out. 

* * *

A day passed and Bernard and Bianca avoaided speaking to each other, mostly due to the fact they were both still in shock over the letter. Bernard got increasingly more irritable, ending up getting thrown out of his house by his foster father. 

At the same time, others had also gotten letters and would end up meeting soon, considering the limousine was arriving that very evening to retrieve them. 

Iago was agitated, because he, too, kept his mouth shut over receiving the letter. He stood, waiting for the long black car to come pick him up. His eyes widened in comic disbelief as he noticed Othello showing up with Desdemona. 

“What?” He squawked in surprise. 

“Iago? You got it too?” Othello questioned, but instead of looking suspicious... he beamed slightly. 

“Uh, yeah,” Iago replied, getting a bit defensive. With a sudden groan, he noticed the form of Roderigo alongside Michael Cassio and Bianca. 

“What are they doing here?” Iago continued briskly. 

How ironic. Their entire group had all received the same letter. And then others showed. 

Bernard, Lenina, Watson... then Hero, Beatrice. 

“No! Why is he here?” Beatrice cried, glaring at Benedick who showed up with a wide smile. 

“Missed me?” Benedick taunted as Claudio showed up with Pedro and Jon. 

“Why are we all here? Why us specifically?” Hero asked, slightly nervous. 

“Well... that is the question,” Alec D’Urberville’s voice replied smoothly as he was followed by Tess who kept her distance from him. 

Flanked behind them were Nick and his cousin, Daisy. 

“And who are they?” Bernard asked, glancing to see... he let out a soft, barely audible gasp. “Isn’t that-“ 

“Who are you?” Watson asked, taking a step forward. 

“John... uh, Smith.” 

“Gatsby.”

”What?!” 

Before anyone could say anything further, the rumbling of a limousine was heard and the students exchanged looks, equally nervous and curious over what would happen next. 

“Ladies first.” Alec smirked at Tess. 

Tess shot him a leveled glare before slowly going inside, the door already oddly opened. She kept flickering repeatedly at the driver’s area, like there was something eerily not right.

Silently, everyone else went inside, not knowing what to say. 

The ride to the mansion was quiet. 

“That can’t be the place!” Someone yelled.

”Holy-“ Bernard began, but let out a half-startled yelp as the limousine door suddenly clicked and he stepped out of the long vehicle. He squirmed a bit, then stuck close to John Smith. 

“Might as well go... in...” 

The mansion doors creaked, causing the group to jump. 

Hero tightly gripped Claudio’s hand and Daisy was closely around Gatsby and Nick. 

It was Othello who finally had the courage to go inside, followed by his girlfriend then Iago. The others trailed behind them, eyeing everything in awe. 

The first room was clearly some kind of guest room. There, standing directly beside a fireplace, was a library, filled to the brim with books. A large table, rounded and carefully sculpted, was further ahead, likely the start of where the mansion’s owner and visitors ate. 

Othello cautiously walked towards the dining room, his eyes narrowing sharply as he saw a note laid flat on the table. He took it in his hands and turned to face the group, reading the slip of paper out loud. 

“Tick, tock, the clock... when the next hour strikes, the walls will be painted a new color. Follow the clues and solve the riddle or all will perish beneath the hand.” 

“What does that even mean?” Watson voiced his thoughts. 

Bernard opened his mouth to say something. He stopped as the lights, which had been mysteriously left on, started flickering unexpectedly. 

“What was that?” He asked. 

“Calm down. It’s probably nothing.” Othello reassured the group. 

Just as he finished speaking, someone screamed and the room was plunged into darkness.  


	3. Painting with the color Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The air is thick with tension as the group struggles to overcome their first encounter in the mansion

 

"What the hell?!" 

"Everyone, just-" 

"This isn't happening! I- what-"

"It's too dark!"

"Everyone!" Othello shouted as the lights flickered back on. He sighed, barely understanding the situation. His eyes narrowed, taking head count to make sure no one had accidentally bolted when the power faded. 

"Where is Tess?" Alec asked, a frown on his face. He appeared very displeased, arms crossed over as if he were the top dog of his pack. He stalked forward, scanning the room for the youngest member in the group. 

Othello, assuming Tess and Alec were a couple, merely answered, "We'll find her." 

The last thing the group needed was someone freaking out. 

Othello was quick to notice Desdemona's discomfort and wrapped an arm around her, glancing around the room to realize something seemed off. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, goosebumps trailing up and down. 

"Tess?" Watson called out. 

No answer. 

After a long tense silence, Othello momentarily rubbed his hand on his girlfriend's shoulder before continuing down the mansion into another room. It was nothing sort of ordinary, more like a guest room filled with rather simple things, a mahogany table in the center and a smaller library, which had a neat white floor. 

Desdemona followed after him, not wanting to be left behind. She stopped, her eyes trailing towards the right, and screamed in fear. Startled by the sight, she slowly backed up, trembling, bumping hard into the wall. She covered her mouth with one hand, trying to hide her inner shock. 

Othello rushed to Desdemona's side, trying to comfort the distraught junior. The elder student bristled, staring at the figure lying motionless on the ground. He draped a hand around his girlfriend's waist to shield the leaner and younger female. 

"Who would do such a thing?" Gatsby frowned. 

Alec's breath hitched as he looked towards Tess's body, one hand clenching up into a fist. He growled lowly, his eyes darkening at the view. Oh, this most certainly was not happening. 

Tess did not movw. Her throat was slit wide open, blood trickling to the ground. Her clothes, a reddish-white dress she had chosen particularly for this event, oddly enough, had been left untouched. The girl's eyes were still open, still, lifeless. 

It made no sense, her sudden and inexplicable death, and it terrified everyone. 

Was someone trying to scare them? Did whoever do this think that their situation was merely a way to mess around with them?

"But she-" Beatrice began yet she ended up faltering, still in too much shock to properly form a sentence. The confused, scared junior stumbled back, failing to see Benedick's brief concerned expression as she was too fixated on attempting to find a way out. 

Lenina made a sharp sort of squeak, glancing away from Tess's dead body. 

"She can't be-" Bernard's face darkened. He looked uncomfortable, rapidly tapping his fingers against his side. "How can she be dead? We- I don't-" Briefly glancing at John, the brown-haired male released a sharp intake of breath. 

"We need to get out of here." Benedick snarled. 

Upon hearing those words, Lenina sprang towards the mansion's front door. She scrambled to twist the knob, but it wouldn't budge. No,no, no- if it wouldn't open, it meant they were prisoners inside. 

"It's stuck!" She cried. 

"So we're trapped?" Iago growled. His eyes flashed with fear though it soon faded. He was agitated, partially from being unable to escape, mostly because he needed to be in control again. There were few people here he actually carried about and even then he kept the appearance of acting normal. 

These kinds of things didn't just happen out of the blue. 

"That doesn't mean there aren't other ways to get out," Othello intervened, seeing his friend's distress, but Iago didn't acknowledge him. He shook his head, knowing that his closest ally could get increasingly stubborn. 

"Oh!" Hero yelped, her attention turned in the direction of the wall. 

Scrawled out in red was "The game has begun." The red substance was slowly trailing down onto the floor. It was disturbing and it only some of them shudder at the thought of what it could be. 

"Why is it in red?" Beatrice voiced her thoughts. 

The possibility of blood made everyone's nerves get riled up. Was it Tess's?

"We need to-" Othello began to say, though a sharp resounding creak was heard, making everyone jump. 

"What was that?" Nick asked warily. 

Othello grinded his teeth as he took charge of the group. He didn't need an uproar and cause them to fight. If he could keep them calm, it would allow them to work together. 

"We shouldn't wander off. Let's just stick together," he stated. Othello kept a close eye on the others, not just his closeknit friends. Some of them were already nervous enough as it was. 

"And who put you in charge?" Bernard snapped. 

"Oh, and you have a better idea of what to do?" Iago hissed. His shoulders were tense and looked seconds from picking a fight with Bernard. 

Falling silent, Bernard crossed his arms, glaring angrily at the far stronger male. 

"Come on. Let's just go," Desdemona cut in, grasping Othello's hand tightly in her hold. She leaned a bit against him before letting her boyfriend lead the way. 

"Upstairs?" Roderigo asked. He was agitated and his words held a tinge of fear, eyes flickering towards Iago for a moment. 

"Is that a good idea?" Beatrice questioned, beginning to get a bit on edge. 

"Don't be ridiculous!" Iago retorted, already heading towards the stairs which surprisingly hadn't been hard to find. 

"Iago, wait!" Othello sighed and having no choice went after him. Desdemona was quick to follow, just barely managing to catch up with the older male. 

Slowly, everyone else started to follow, disappearing from view into the darkness of a place they didn't know. 

Somewhere in the mansion, a figure lurked ready to make his next move. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tick tock goes the clock. A high hour approaches and nothing is entirely as it seems. Good luck to those who wish to enter the mansion for none come back out.


	4. Call of the Night

“Beatrice!” Benedick yelled, trying to catch sight of a familiar face. He mentally scoffed because he was _not_ scared. “Come on,” he muttered, agitated.

 

“Bea- damn it,” he growled and continued down an empty hallway, keeping his guard up in case he was attacked. Benedick frowned as he noticed a room, which was slightly open. Getting a bit curious, he stepped inside to get a good look.

 

The room was this pale brown color with a bed, the reddish sheets spread out in an extremely tidy fashion, situated towards the right. An old dusty nightstand rested beside the closet that was beginning to lose its glossy mahogany paint. Strangely enough, the closet doors were slightly ajar.

 

Benedick moved the closet doors to get a view inside though he soon came to realize it was empty, save for a bag containing some extra bed sheets.

 

His expression changed into one of confusion, going away from the closet. Benedick’s attention was drawn to the nightstand, seeing a leather-bound book, which stood up with some pages bent, a piece of paper sticking out of it.

 

What was that doing there?

 

Taking the small slip, Benedick read it out aloud.

 

“Beware those who you meet and stay to the light.”

 

Stay to the light? Odd, but he didn’t question it as he stuffed the note into his coat pocket.

 

Benedick exited the room, feeling a bit unnerved as he felt a sudden shift in the air. He shivered and walked down the hallway, still upset because he didn’t find anyone. Hero and Claudio had mysteriously vanished after that one boy, Ian or something, had gone upstairs, and worse yet was Beatrice’s disappearance.

 

He wasn’t afraid. No, of course not. He just wanted to annoy Beatrice, that’s all.

 

Right?

 

 

“Oh, for heaven’s-“ Nick sighed as he realized he had taken a wrong turn, separating himself from the others. “Daisy? Uh—Othello?”

 

His hand twisted around the hem of his shirt, heading further down what looked to be more rooms.

 

“Gatsby?”

 

Nick’s lips twitched in annoyance, checking each and every room for any sign of a clue. He was agitated, especially after the death of Tess, the image of her slit throat still running across his mind.

 

The young male was just barely in his junior year, too many thoughts running at once. Why were he and the others called to the mansion? Was it just for pleasure, to scare them, or something else?

 

“Gatsby!”

 

Nothing.

 

Only one place stood out.

 

Nick went inside, realizing that, oddly enough, there was no sign of dust or cobwebs. Even if the house had been built recently, he would’ve seen residues somewhere. No one could be that clean.

 

The only thing he noticed that seemed different was an old armoire that contained various clothes. Nick carefully rummaged through them, until he stopped, feeling something warm on his fingers. He pulled his hand back, seeing the red substance coating his palm.

 

Blood.

 

Vomit riled up his throat and he promptly threw up, shuddering in displeasure at the sight.

 

No, no, no—he felt really sick now, his head beginning to throb. Why was-

 

The room began to spin and he stumbled back, trying to get out.

 

“You really shouldn’t have entered here. It’s dark.”

 

Nick whirled around, but found no one.

 

Was he imagining things? Did his sudden headache make him hear voices?

His heart raced against his chest, hammering wildly as his darkest thoughts whirled in his mind.

 

His back hit the wall, staggering out of the room. Nick’s eyesight dimmed suddenly, though he felt someone grab him from behind. In a fit of panic, he struggled, lashing out from the disorientation.

 

“Easy, old sport. It’s me,” a somewhat familiar voice called.

 

Nick’s fighting subsided, letting himself be led back downstairs. He practically collapsed onto a couch, his vision clearing again to see Gatsby standing in front of him.

 

Jay Gatsby looked increasingly concerned, before he asked, “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m uh, fine.” Nick lied.

 

His curiosity sparked and he knew that if he’d met Gatsby under different circumstances, then maybe things would’ve gone a whole lot better.

 

Gatsby’s parents clearly had gotten creative, especially considering they named their son after a famous character in a book.

 

“Have you seen anyone else, old sport?”

 

Nick sighed, “No…”

 

Gatsby frowned in response.

 

“We should try and find someone.” Nick spoke, breaking the silence that suddenly filled the atmosphere.

 

“Yes, yes, of course.”

 

The pair got up and Nick took the lead, searching everywhere for any sign of Daisy or anyone else. They grew tenser by the minute because there was still silence.

 

It rang in the air, dead cold air.

 

Nothing else was there.

 

Not a hiss.

 

“Nick…?” Gatsby began.

 

There was a sharp, uncomfortable creaking sound.

 

Nick’s eyes narrowed as he continued forward when he felt goosebumps trailing all over his body.

 

He barely had time to react when a loud earsplitting scream rang clean.

 


End file.
